


If you hold me close

by NoMatterTheOceans



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fake Dating, IT'S A FAKE DATING AU, also it's fake dating at Elucien wedding, so here you go, yes you heard me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2020-02-10 13:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18661498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMatterTheOceans/pseuds/NoMatterTheOceans
Summary: Feyre is anxious about attending her sister's wedding without a date, expecially with her ex-boyfriend being the best man....





	1. Bachelorettes

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this is just a very silly fic, there's going to be a few chapters but they're short and I do minimum editing. Basically, I take FO-REVER to publish chapters for my fic "Staying Afloat" because that fic is my baby and I want it to be perfect. Also because "SA" is pretty dark and sad, I want to give myself and you guys a fun silly escape from it, and that's this fic!!! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!!

Rhys left the table he’d been sharing with Mor and Azriel, and made his way through the club to get to the bar. After he’d ordered the three drinks, he took a seat to wait for the cocktails to be ready, and looked over at the entire club. The night was calm enough, for a Friday at Rita’s anyway. There were mostly small groups of friends, a bachelorette party happening at one of the tables near the bar, and some couples enjoying the dancefloor.

The loudest group was definitely the bachelorette party, a group of nearly ten women laughing and drinking beers and what looked like Tequila. He couldn’t stop his smile as he saw the bride-to-be, dressed in a very flashy pink dress and with an atrocious veil on her head, started doing what looked like five shots in a row before getting up, grabbing two other women’s hands and dragging them to the dancefloor. The three of them looked enough like one another that he figured they were probably sisters, with similar features and golden brown hair. The bride wasn’t the only one in a ridiculous dress, he realized as a few others from their group joined them, they all had backless dresses that looked like they were made of plastic, and each one wore a different color. One of the sisters, her hair tied neatly in braids against her head, was wearing a bright red dress and seemed the most embarrassed by it, she kept on fussing with it to try and make it fit better. The other sister, however, didn’t seem to mind at all. She was facing him as she danced, and he could see her laughing from afar, her hair unbound framing her face as she talked to her sister and laughed again. Her turquoise dress was as ridiculous as the others, but she didn’t seem to notice, or care. He didn’t know her, but her large smile was contagious and he felt himself grinning broadly at the joy in her face.

The group moved around, and the woman was her back to him, her backless dress revealing a tattoo along her spine, of what looked like stars and phases of the moon. He thought of how Cassian would like it, how he would want to study it and create a variation of it for one of his projects. He was still looking at her when she turned to him and started walking. He began to panic at the idea that she’d realized he’d been staring, but she took a seat beside him and waved at the barman. She’d only been coming for the bar, obviously. He relaxed and looked back at the barman, who’d just finished one of the cocktails and was heading to him. He left the drink in front of him and was going back for the others when the woman caught his attention.

“Could I have a glass of water, please?” She said loudly above the music. The barman nodded and went at the end of the bar, and as Rhys was turning to look back at the dancefloor, his eyes met the woman’s, and he stopped moving. She had clear eyes, he couldn’t really determine the color in the light of the nightclub, but he could see the tiny wrinkles around them as she smiled at him, freckles sparkling her nose and cheeks. He smiled back at her and she blushed slightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The barman came back with her glass of water, and Rhys watched her take a long sip, her lipstick as turquoise as her dress but yet still pretty. She really was gorgeous, and he really wanted to talk to her.

“Having a good party?” He blurted out, almost immediately regretting this introduction. The woman looked at him again, and smiled.

“Yeah! I never came to this club before tonight, it's pretty fun!”

He gestured towards the bride-to-be, currently drinking out of the bottle of Tequila, “Is that your sister? She looks a lot like you!”

The woman laughed at the sight. “Yeah. She's getting married next weekend.” Her voice sounded more strained at the mention of the wedding, and he wondered why but didn't ask. After all, he didn't know her and she probably didn't want to talk to a stranger about her personal life. Instead, he extended a hand towards her.

“I'm Rhysand, but you can call me Rhys.”

She looked down at his hand and lifted an eyebrow at him. “Handshaking? In a nightclub?”

“What?” he laughed, “would you rather I groped you on the dancefloor?!”

She let out a bright laugh at that suggestion, and gripped his hand. “It's nice to meet you, Rhys, I'm Feyre. And I really prefer the handshake, you're absolutely right! Although, with the dress I'm wearing, I'm not even sure any sort of groping is possible!” She finished, looking down at herself, and he was the one laughing now.

“Yeah, what’s up with that? I don’t even think it’s a legal fabric in this country, you know?”

She snorted “I think it's the most uncomfortable piece of clothing I've ever worn in my entire life!”

“I have to say, I don't think you'll seduce anyone while wearing it.”

She chuckled and looked at her sisters. “Good. As you can see, we're not really here to seduce anyone, the main guest of our party is already otherwise engaged.”

Again, her voice had dropped a bit at the mention of the wedding. The barman brought him the second cocktail, but he didn't look at it.

“You don't have to answer me if you don't want to, but you don't seem all that thrilled about this wedding.”

She turned back to him and sighed.

“It shows, huh?” He simply nodded, and she huffed a breath again. “It's not that I don't want her to get married, it's just... “ She bit her lower lip, “Well, she's marrying my ex’s best friend, and I'm really  _ not _ looking forward to spending an entire weekend with him, especially when I'm going without a date.”

She had said all this in a very long sentence, without stopping, and he wondered if it was the first time that she was saying this out loud. “I'm sorry, that really sucks.”

She seemed defeated. “Yeah… well, it's Elain’s wedding so I have to be there, there's no point on dwelling on it, really.”

“Still, spending a whole weekend with an ex isn't my ideal weekend either so, I sympathize.”

“Thanks. It'd be easier if I was bringing someone, you know. I could at least not feel completely alone when I see him. Plus, it would make him  _ so  _ jealous, that would be a good bonus. But I can't really do anything about that.”

His third cocktail arrived at that moment, so Rhys paid the barman, but he didn't go back to his table right away. Instead, he took in Feyre’s lovely face once more and said without thinking: “I can come with you if you want.”

She tore her eyes from her friends dancing to look at him. “What!?”

“I'm just saying that if you wanted not to be alone at the wedding, I wouldn't mind accompanying you.”

She laughed. “Don't be ridiculous! I'm not going to bring a guy I met at a nightclub to my sister’s wedding!” But as she was saying this, she was also looking at him up and down, as if assessing him.

“Hey, you certainly don't have to if you don't want to! I'm just saying, I think I'm a nice man, and you seem like a really nice woman. I like you, so I'd like to help you get through a rough time if you want me to. We don’t have to go as a couple, but we can make him think we're together to piss him off,” he finished with a suggestive smile that made her laugh.

“You like me, then? I thought my dress made it impossible to seduce anybody?!” She teased, but he saw she was blushing slightly. He could have lied, told her that he just wanted to help a nice lady out, but for some reason, he didn't want to lie to her. So he leaned closer to her and whispered into her ear:

“I'm not just anybody, Darling.” He moved back slowly and she turned her head to watch him, a small smile on her face. She bit her lip as she took him in, and he knew she was considering it, but then -

“No. No, this is crazy, I can't just invite some man I just met, simply because I don’t want to go alone. Plus, it’s a three-days thing upstate.”

But he could see she was hesitant, so he grabbed a coaster, took out a small pencil from one of his pockets, and wrote his phone number on it. She watched him the whole time, and took the coaster he gave her. 

“I’ll tell you what, I'm free next weekend anyway, so what do you say if you change your mind, just give me a call and I'll gladly accompany you. Three days upstate, all expenses paid, I wouldn’t dream of saying ‘no’. And if you don't,” he finished as he grabbed the three cocktails, “well it was really nice meeting you, Feyre.”

She stared at the coaster, then at him, and nodded. He was about to go back to his table when she gripped his arm and got up to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you for even proposing to help me. See you,” she said, and she was walking to the dancefloor before he could answer. Watching her walk away, in her ridiculous blue dress, Rhys didn’t restrain his smile, and couldn’t help but hoping she would call him at some point.


	2. Hangover

Feyre woke up with the worst hangover she’d had in years. She groaned and rolled around to grab her phone. Beneath her phone, she found a coaster from Rita’s, and she could see a phone number written on it. Frowning for a second, she smiled as she remembered Rhysand, the incredibly gorgeous man she’d talked to at the bar, and who had offered to be her date at Elain’s wedding. God, he’d been handsome, with his short black hair and his charming smile and his deep blue eyes. So charming in fact, that she'd almost said yes at his proposal to accompany her. She remembered how she had been incapable of looking away from him, and how she'd let herself imagine how good they would look together in the wedding pictures. She giggled at the memory. She had to have been  _ very _ drunk, to even consider the idea of inviting a stranger to Elain’s wedding.

And yet… he’d been sweet. And funny. And understanding. They had talked a grand total of five minutes, but she had had such a good feeling about him, that even now, when she was sober - well, mostly - she couldn’t help but consider his offer. It would be nice, having someone by her side when she faced Tamlin for the first time since their breakup.

Someone knocked on the door of her bedroom and - this wasn’t her bedroom. Opening her eyes for real this time, Feyre realized she was in Elain and Lucien’s guest bedroom. She was supposed to have gone home after the party,  but she remembered her sister being so drunk that she’d said she missed her fiancé too much, and she wanted to go home, and they’d ended up back at their apartment twenty minutes later, Nesta and her sharing the guest bedroom as Elain stumbled into her own to find Lucien.

Indeed, she looked at the other side of the bed to find her oldest sister asleep, in nothing but her underwear. Feyre laughed and rose from the bed, herself still in her dress. It had been Elain’s idea for everyone to wear matching outfits, and she had been the one to find the set of ten horrifying colorful dresses and to assign a color to each of them. Nesta, who was always wearing fancy couture clothes, had begrudgingly worn her red dress at the club, and had taken it off as fast as possible when they’d entered the bedroom. Feyre covered her sister with a blanket before going to the door, and found Lucien the other side of the door.

“Hey,” she said to him, taking in his ruffled hair, exhausted look and half open shirt. “Short night?” She raised an eyebrow at his look, and he laughed.

“Yeah, Elain didn’t want to go to sleep so…”

“Ugh, please no details, I don’t need any images of horror inside my head.”

He laughed. “Sorry.”

“So, why are you up so early on a Saturday?”

“I just received a call and I’m going to have to go to the office for a couple of hours. I’m going out to buy breakfast, I might as well bring you some. What do you want?”

“A chocolate muffin would be nice. And for Nesta,” she added as she looked around and took in her sister, still snoring slightly under the blanket, “could it be a few macaroons?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Luce.”

He smiled and went to the front door, and Feyre went to the bathroom to wash up. She couldn’t help her chuckle as she saw herself in the mirror once more while she undressed, her turquoise dress and equally blue makeup clashing horrifically with the delicate flower designs of the bathroom tiles around her. Elain and Lucien had done wonders with the apartment they’d bought together a year earlier, as a mutual engagement present. It had been no more than a dump when they’d found it, on a good side of the city but still abandoned for way too long to be of any interest to anyone but them. And then they had spent the next six months remodeling the rooms, bringing down walls and painting with soft colors or restoring hardwood floors. Feyre remembered entire afternoons helping them in the kitchen, when Tamlin and her were still together, and she still thought she was happy with him. She remembered sharing a beer with Lucien on the small balcony of the master’s bedroom, their friendship bright and easy at the time.

But that had been before the breakup.

She still loved Lucien. He was a good man, and he loved her sister, and she cared for him as a friend. But… He had known. How Tamlin acted with her when they were alone, how he talked to her and treated her like she was nothing. And he had known about the night of the Spring equinox, when Feyre had been away from town and…

But he had said nothing to her, he hadn’t helped her until she had already left Tamlin. She understood why, of course, she knew how he himself felt about Tamlin, she knew of his feelings of insecurity and weakness when he was with him, but still, it hurt every time she saw Lucien. Maybe someday, they would learn to be friends once more, maybe once Elain and him were married, she would be happy to enjoy Saturday afternoons by their pool in the house upstate, or dinners on Tuesdays with Nesta and them. But right now… Even seeing him for breakfast was weird and tense, so she had a hard time imagining spending the whole weekend of the wedding in his company.

Or Tamlin’s company, for that matter. God, he was going to be there too, being Lucien’s bestman and all. She wasn’t ready to see him again, let alone for almost three entire days in a very romantic resort where the wedding was held, and not after she’d managed to avoid him for the last four months and a half, in spite of all the wedding preparations they should have shared. It was supposed to be a good idea on Elain’s part to make Feyre her maid of honor, seeing as she was at the time in a very serious relationship with the best man, and Elain had said it was poetic to have them together in the ceremony. Much less poetic now that Feyre had left him and refused to talk to him.

It would have been nice to have a boyfriend to go with her to this wedding, someone to hold hands with when she saw Tamlin, someone to snuggle against if she felt sad at some point. And yes, someone to show off, too. Tamlin had taken her for granted for so long, treating her like he had because he’d known she wouldn’t leave him. He’d told her more than once, in this sweet voice of his that hid so many bitter thoughts, that he knew she loved him too much to be jealous of other men. Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from  _ being  _ jealous anytime he saw her with someone, but she had stopped trying to understand his logic a long time ago. And it would have been so satisfying to show him that she had moved on and found someone else, to show him that she was able to live without him, even though he’d refused to believe her when she’d left him.

She got out of the shower and found a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt in one of the drawers of the closet, old clothes that Elain had left there. She came out of the bedroom, crossed the brightly lit hallway and went to make coffee in the kitchen. The pot was ready when Lucien came back, a paper bag in his hand, and she gave him a mug.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

They sat in silence for a while, Feyre nibbling at her muffin, trying to avoid meeting Lucien’s gaze. She knew his face enough to know what she would find there, the sharpness of his russet eye fixed on her, as his other one, the artificial one, stayed still. She didn’t want to shut him out, but she certainly wouldn’t be the one to start up a conversation. He seemed to know it, because he said:

“How was the party last night?”

“Good. Elain enjoyed herself.”

He laughed, “yeah, I saw that, she kept texting me the whole time. With pictures,” he added, eyebrows shooting up suggestively.

“Oh my God, do I even want to know what she sent you?”

Lucien laughed. “I don’t know, there was a lot of bottles of Tequila, and a lot of weird selfies with strangers.”

Feyre didn’t restrain her own laugh at the memories of the previous night, of Elain telling  _ everyone  _ they encountered that she was getting married and she wanted to take pictures with them. That’s what she’d been doing with the pictures then, sending them to her fiance all night long. It was actually really sweet, the way Elain always wanted to be close to Lucien, eager to write to him even during her bachelorette party.

“And did you have fun?” he continued, pulling her out of her reverie.

“I did. It felt good to see Clare and the girls again, it's been a while.”

They fell silent once more, but she could feel he wasn't done talking. And a minute later, he talked again.

“How are you feeling about next weekend?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… do you think you'll be alright?” there was concern in his voice, and something else too, something like… pity. She hated it.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” She knew  _ exactly  _ what he was talking about.

“Well, I know it's the first time you'll see Tam since the breakup and… I don't want you to feel bad all weekend, I mean you'll be all alone and…”

“I'm not coming alone.” Oh no. She hadn't meant to say that, but she couldn't handle the tone of pity in his voice.

“You're not? Who are you bringing?”

There was no way to get out of it now. Either she told him the truth and faced even more pity, or she kept her lie going.

“A guy. You don't know him.”

“Oh, okay. Is he your boyfriend?”

“We're not exactly… there yet. But we've been dating. For about a month.”

“Okay well… good then. Have you told Elain? We probably need to make some adjustments to fit him in.”

Feyre smiled as she saw an escape to her stupid lie. “You know, if it's too much of a trouble to accommodate him, he doesn't have to come. I'll tell him it's too late to change anything.”

“Are you kidding?” he said as he got up and went to the front door, his briefcase in hand, “of course we'll accommodate him!”

“Good,” Feyre whispered to herself when Lucien was gone. Now she needed a fake boyfriend.


	3. Coffee

This had to be the most awkward social situation possible. As the waitress left to place their order, Rhys took in the woman seated across from him in the small cafe, and he had to admit that the hideous dress she'd been wearing three nights ago hadn't made her justice. Dressed in a simple black summer dress and her hair loose over her shoulders, she had to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She was wearing a much more classic shade of lipstick, and the makeup she was using enhanced the many freckles on her cheeks. But for all that she was pretty, she hadn’t talked much in the five minutes they’d been sitting together.

It was strange, being on a sort-of-a-date-but-not-exactly with a woman he’d only met for five minutes in a nightclub. He’d barely believed it when she’d called him the next afternoon, and he’d agreed immediately when she’d asked if he wanted to meet for a coffee. So now here they were, Monday afternoon, meeting in his favorite cafe in The Rainbow, and it was awkward. He didn’t know why, really. They’d talked and joked around easily the other night, and he hadn’t imagined today to be any different. But it was, because Feyre kept twisting her fingers and avoiding looking at him in the eyes. He was about to ask her if she felt okay when she finally opened the conversation:

“Were you serious about this weekend?” The question took him by surprise, and she seemed to realize it, because she blushed and bit her bottom lip before adding “sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that bluntly.”

“No, it’s okay. And… yeah, sure. I mean, you’d have to tell me a little more about this wedding you want me to come to, but I’m free, and you can hold me to my promise,” he ended with a wink, and she chuckled softly. 

“Well, it’s my sister’s wedding, it’s in a hotel upstate, and it’s a three-day thing. The actual wedding is on Sunday afternoon, they have activities planned on Saturday, and the rehearsals are on Friday.”

“That sounds eventful.”

“Yeah, Elain and Lucien went kind of overboard with the whole big wedding thing,” she answered, and she seemed to relax a little bit.

“So, if I come with you, we’d go together for the three days then?”

“If.. If you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, why not? It could be fun. Should I call the hotel to get a room there then?”

She turned bright red at that, and her eyes dropped back to her hands. “Actually I… I thought we could… share.” The last word came out like a choked whisper, and Rhys frowned. She seemed nice, but he hadn’t thought she would be willing to sleep in the same bedroom as him.

“Oh.”

“Well… Okay so Saturday I was talking to Lucien, he’s my sister’s fiancé and he’s also my ex’s best friend. And he kept saying all these things about how sad he was for me that I was going alone, and how he hoped I was alright and… I kind of snapped.”

“Did you kill him?” He said with a wink, and she laughed.

“No, worse. I told him I was coming with… my boyfriend.”

“Ooooh okay. So you need me to lie then?”

“Well… yeah.” And she continued before he could answer, words coming out of her faster than she probably wanted to: “I mean, you really don’t have to say yes if you’re not comfortable with it. We only just met and you don’t know me and I realize this is a crazy idea that -”

“Feyre, I’m gonna stop you right there.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say it, I understand.”

He reached across the table to gently grab her chin and make her look up at him. “You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say, that if you want, we could maybe talk for a while, and then decide together if we’re comfortable with the idea of spending a weekend together? Not that you don’t seem charming,” he added, “but it could be nice to get to know each other?”

She leaned ever so slightly into his touch and nodded. “You’re right.”

The waitress came back at that moment with their order, and Rhys took back his hand, before asking: “So, Feyre, you have two sisters then?”

 

***

 

Friday arrived sooner that she wanted it to. Standing outside her apartment with her small suitcase at her feet, Feyre smiled at the man approaching, an overnight bag on his shoulder. He stopped beside her and said: “Hello Darling.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “I told you you didn’t need to give me a nickname.”

“But I do!! It’s been a month since we’ve met, right? Then I’ve definitely given you a cute nickname by now, Darling. We’ve agreed to this, remember?”

He was referring to the ongoing text conversation, where they’d established many facts about their so-called relationship.

_ Where did we meet? _

_ Oh you were definitely the one who initiated the first kiss! _

_ Do I call you Rhys or Rhysand? _

_ Is kissing off limits? _

_ Does this tie match your dress for the ceremony? _

Their exchange was endless, full of jokes and stories about their family and respective lives. And full of sweet flirting, too. Rhys was shameless, and he’d been taking this deception seriously enough to have sent her grossly over-the-top but still charming messages over the last few days. Feyre had woken up that morning to a photo of a rising sunshine from what he’d described as his rooftop terrace with the caption “can’t wait to spend this beautiful day with you, Darling.” She’d snorted, but also blushed a little at how sweet he was with her.

“Ugh, whatever,” she answered, and continued “now shush, they’re here.”

Indeed, Elain and Lucien’s car stopped in front of them, and her sister opened the window.

“Feyre, put your bags in the trunk and come in!”

They were sitting in the backseat of the car a minute later, and Lucien started driving, but Elain immediately turned towards them and grinned at Rhys.

“Hello! Rhysand, right?”

“You can call me Rhys, all my friends do,” he answered smoothly, smiling at her, and Elain’s smile intensified.

“Alright. So Rhys, how did you and Feyre meet?”

Feyre tensed a little bit, but Rhys simply draped his arm on the back of the seat to encircle her, smiled at her fondly and turned back to Elain before starting to tell the story they’d agreed on, about them bumping into each other at an art show in The Rainbow, and hitting it off right away. Elain seemed to buy it easily enough, but then she asked the question Feyre was dreading above all else: “So how come Feyre hasn’t mentioned you before?”

But once again, Rhys answered effortlessly. “Well, we’ve only been dating a month so I think she didn’t want to jinx it by telling you really early. Right, Darling?” he said, turning to her and giving her such a charming smile that she was stuck for a second, lost in the depth of his dark blue eyes.

“Yes,” she turned to her sister, “plus you were so busy with the preparations for this weekend, I didn’t want to impose.”

“Oh, not at all. It did make it difficult to find a room for you, but I called the hotel on Monday and I managed to get one of the suites for you!”

Feyre felt herself blush at the reminder that they were going to share a room until Monday morning, and she buried herself in her seat, letting the conversation between Rhys and her sister unfold for the rest of the trip.


	4. Rehearsal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guyyyyys I am so sorry it took me so long to update this fic...!!!! I went on a hike for work during two weeks, then I had family over, then I had my work,... anyway here's chapter 4, I hope you'll like it!!  
> As always, minimum editing, this is just a fun fake dating AU, so enjoy!!

They’d arrived at the hotel an hour earlier, just after noon. After a tour of the lobby, the reception room, the garden where the wedding ceremony would happen, and the bar downstairs, they were now in the room they were going to share for the next three nights. Taking in the very large king-size bed, Feyre relaxed a little bit. At least this bed was big enough for them to share it without being forced to snuggle or anything. That was definitely a relief. Rhysand was a great person, he was thoughtful and funny, and so far she was having a great time in his company, but that wasn’t a reason to get cozy in their bedroom. He seemed to think the same, and he offered her the use of the bathroom if she wanted to change into her dress for the rehearsals.

She came out five minutes later, and found him buttoning up a white shirt. He was still on the first buttons, and Feyre took in his incredibly muscled belly, as well as the intricate black tattoos that covered the top half of his brown skin. She saw his fingers freeze and she looked up to find him smirking at her, a look letting her know that he knew exactly what she’d been looking at.

“Seeing something you like, Darling?”

She suppressed a roll of her eyes and shook her head. “I was looking at your tattoos.”

He snorted and started buttoning his shirt again. “Sure.”

“I  _ was!” _

He opened his mouth, but before he could answer with what she was sure to be a witty remark, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Rhys turned away from the door and kept getting dressed, and Feyre went to open to her sister.

“Nesta.”

Her oldest sister was already gorgeously dressed in a light red couture dress, her hair and makeup perfect. Feyre thought of how she looked like, with her normal summer dress, the straps of her bathing suit showing on her shoulders, her hair tied in a loose bun and her makeup done quickly that morning, and felt suddenly a little down. She knew Nesta was the most beautiful of them all, and she didn’t normally care about it, but knowing she would see Tamlin later that day made her want to look her best.

“Hey,” her sister said, kissing her on the cheek. “Elain needs you downstairs in half an hour for the rehearsal ceremony.”

“Yeah she told me. I’ll see you there?”

“Sure.”

Nesta left and Feyre turned back to Rhys, who was now fully dressed and putting on a simple black jacket. He really was very handsome.

He turned to her, smiled and said: “So, shall we go downstairs?”

“We still have some time before the ceremony.”

“Yeah I know but I figured we could get a drink at the bar? Give us time to get used to being in public together. What do you think?”

She agreed and they left the room together, Feyre looping her arm with his. They were about to go down the stairs when Rhys said.

“You look gorgeous, by the way.”

Taken aback, she thanked him softly, and walked with more confidence.

 

***

 

It was weird, holding hands with him as they drank in silence. Weird, because it  _ didn’t feel _ weird. Their fingers were intertwined, she could feel his thumb running in slow circles against hers, and he didn’t even seem to notice he was doing it. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable either, and Feyre was more relaxed about what was to come with every passing minute. Maybe this weekend would not be too awful with him at her side.

A voice coming from the adjacent lobby made her change her mind very quickly.

“Lucien, hey!”

“Tam, you made it in time.”

“Yes, I left work early to get here for the ceremony.”

“I’m glad. What do you say you leave your luggage here and we can get to it? Elain is getting a bit stressed, and we’re already five minutes behind schedule.”

“I was hoping to take a shower before but… alright. You owe me one, though.”

“Sure, sure,” Lucien answered, and she tensed as she heard their voice getting closer to the bar. Rhys grabbed her hand tighter and whispered in her ear “it’s gonna be fine, Feyre. I’m here with you.”

He was still leaning close to her when the two men entered the room and Feyre saw her ex for the first time since their breakup. He froze when he saw her, and she immediately saw his fist clench as he took in the man holding her hand and slowly moving away from her neck. They all stayed silent for a long second before Lucien coughed and spoke.

“Feyre, we’re ready to go to the rehearsal ceremony, whenever you want to join us.”

Feyre looked at him. “I’ll be right there.” She then turned to Rhys and smiled with as much affection as she could muster. “Do you mind being on your own for a while?”

He answered without missing a beat. “Of course not, Darling, I’ll wait right here for you.”

She could feel Tamlin staring at them, and because seeing him had brought back all the anger she’d felt when she’d left him, she didn’t immediately let go of Rhysand’s hand, and instead she leaned into him and kissed him.

_ Is kissing off limits? _

_ It’s fine by me, but I hope you’re a good kisser! _

_ I am, but that’s not the point. Can I kiss you this weekend? _

_ I’m okay with it if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. It’s just a kiss, Darling. _

It didn’t feel like just a kiss. His lips were warm and soft, and she felt his hand move to her cheek and gently cup her face. She made it last a moment longer than necessary, her eyes closed, taking in the scent of citrus invading her mind and the warmth of his fingers against her skin. He was smiling when they broke apart, and he whispered “good luck” before letting go of her cheek and hand, and relaxing in his chair with a contented look towards Tamlin.

Still flustered by the unexpected good time she’d just experienced, Feyre got up and went into the corridor leading to the reception room, brushing past Tamlin without a look in his direction. She felt him follow him and he grabbed her elbow to make her look at him.

“Who the hell is that?”

“Let go of me.”   
“Who the  _ hell  _ is that!?”

She yanked her arm from his grip and crossed her arms.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Like hell it’s not. Do you think you’re funny, bringing some guy here to show off in front of me?”

She almost blushed at seeing him land so close to the truth, but she didn’t back down.”I’m not here to ‘show off’, he’s my boyfriend. Do you have a problem with that?”

Before he could answer, Elain’s head popped out of the next room, visibly angry. “When you guys are done arguing, we’re waiting for you to start here.”

Feyre moved away from Tamlin and entered.

“Sorry Elain.”

Tamlin followed her without apologizing and came to a stop beside her. Right, he was Lucien’s best man and she was to enter the wedding at his arm. Great. As the officiant briefed them on the order of appearance (Nesta and one of Lucien’s cousins, then Feyre and Tamlin, then Elain alone), Feyre could feel the anger coming from Tamlin. Oh, he was not going to drop it easily.

They started to mimic what they would have to do on Sunday, and Feyre reluctantly let Tamlin hook their arms together. As they started walking, he let out an angry whisper.

“You had no right bringing someone today.”

“No right? Since when do you get to decide what I’m allowed to do, Tam?”

“You’re ridiculous, Feyre. I don’t care that you came with someone, but it’s pathetic. You’re going to ruin Elain and Lucien’s wedding with your drama.”

“Before you got here, there was no drama whatsoever. It seems like you’re the only one trying to make a scene!”

And with that, they reached the wedding arch, she let go of his arm and went to her designated spot without looking back.


	5. Beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! Here’s a lil’ chapter for you, as always it’s pointless fluff but oh well ^^ it’s really short but I’m hoping you’ll like it anyway!

Feyre got out of the rehearsal ceremony as soon as she could, and she joined Rhysand at the table they’d been sharing. He took her in as she sat down beside him, her flowery dress giving him an extensive view of her long legs that he knew he shouldn't be enjoying as much as he was. He looked back up, expecting her to be glaring at him for staring, but her gaze seemed to be lost in the landscape around them, she was staring at it with a lost air on her face, and her fingers were fidgeting with her dress. Rhys moved to her and gently, as not to startle her, he took her hand in his. She turned to him and gave him a small smile, as if realizing she wasn't alone.

"Hey," she whispered.

"How did it go?" He asked in the same soft time of voice.

"Good. The ceremony will go well I think, and Elain was very happy with how everything went."

Maybe she didn't want to talk about her ex with him. But she seemed lost, and he decided to give it a shot anyway.

"Good. And with your ex? How do you feel?"

"I'm… I'm okay," she answered with a smile. "It's strange to see him, and he behaved horribly, but I'll be fine." She seemed to really focus on him for the first time and her grin widened. "I'm glad that you're here, though."

God, he wanted to kiss her. He knew she’d only kissed him because her ex was watching, and he had probably enjoyed it way more than she had. He had moved his hand to her cheek out of instinct, and had been glad when she’d extended their kiss. But he wouldn't kiss her without her clearly wanting it, so instead he told her he was glad to be here too, and went to get her a drink at the bar. He came back with two bottles of beers a few minutes later, to find her on her feet, with a grin on her face.

"I want to go swimming. You want to go to the beach?" She looked like a child waiting to open Christmas presents, biting her lower lip and discreetly jumping on her feet, and he felt his heart melt at the view.

"Sure. You want to take the beers?"

"Obviously!"

 

***

 

He took off his shoes and socks as they reached the beach, regretting not having gone to their bedroom to put on lighter clothes before heading out of the hotel. He was about to suggest going back for a bit when he saw Feyre take off her dress and reveal a red one-piece swimsuit that made him stop in his steps for a second, just to take the time to admire how gorgeous she looked.

Apparently oblivious of the effect she had on him, she kicked her shoes off her feet and let her dress fall on the ground beside them. She took out the hair band she'd been wearing, and her hair cascaded on her shoulders and back. Not once glancing behind her, she advanced towards the ocean, and she had quickly disappeared in the water, leaving Rhys to his thoughts. He didn’t move for a moment, until she emerged from the water and looked at him.

“What are you still doing over there? Get in here!” She was laughing, and he couldn’t stop a smile from taking over his face as he laid the beers on the ground beside her clothes, took of his shirt and pants, and ran towards her.

The water was quite cold, but he jumped in anyway, and enjoyed the feeling of the waves running around him as he swam until he reached the place where Feyre was splashing around, finding she had actually stopped on a shallow part of the ocean, the sand barely a meter under the water.

“Cheating, are you?” He asked, and she laughed.

“I never said I was swimming, sir. In fact, I believe you were the one talking about swimming on the way here, weren’t you?”

She was referring to the conversation he’d had in the car with her sister, during which she’d talked about the great swimming pool the hotel had, and he had answered he generally preferred swimming in the open waters. “I had no idea you were listening,” he said as he came to a stop in front of her, standing in the shallow water.

She didn’t stop, and started floating around him, moving in slow movements, her eyes semi-closed. “Of course I was. I really like your voice.”

Heat creeped onto his cheeks, and he felt silly at reacting that way for such a small compliment. “Thank you.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Thank  _ you  _ for having a lovely voice.” Then her soft smile turned into a wicked grin, and before he could react, he felt her arms around his legs, and she yanked him off his feet to make him fall in the water. He fell on top of her, looped an arm around her back and dragged her with him underneath, where they stayed playfully struggling with each other for a few seconds. They emerged laughing, his arm still around her and their legs tangled together. His heart leapt as she threw her arms around him and buried her head in his neck, laughing, and he tightened the grip on her back to keep her against him. The waves were crashing around them, and when their eyes met again, he could see the droplets of water capturing the light of the sun as they rested on her eyelashes, her skin, her lips.

She suddenly shivered in his arms, and he felt as if he was waking up from a dream when she took a step away from him, straightened and said “I’m cold, maybe we should head back to the beach?”

“He nodded and they swam back, finding themselves reaching the warm sand in a few moments. They settled on the sand, and spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their lives in the city, and their childhood, and their job. All the while, he was watching her, lying on her stomach, her elbows holding her up, her hair capturing the sunshine in its golden brown strands. She was funny, and she was incredibly smart, and beautiful, and as he lay on his back with his arms behind his head, Rhys couldn’t help but feel grateful that he’d agreed to come with her this weekend.


	6. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait people!!!! If you follow me on Tumblr, you probably already heard about the chaos that were the last few months of my life!  
> But here's chapter 6, and I promise the other updates won't be as long to come :)  
> Thank you for your comments and kuddos, it means the world!

As they entered the reception room for the rehearsal dinner, Rhys followed Feyre to the round table in the middle of the room, where both her sisters were already seated. There were four empty seats at the table, but Rhys didn’t wonder much about it. He knew no one at that wedding, and had no idea who was to seat with them apart from the groom and the two best men. Once they were seated, Elain excused herself, got up to greet some guests, and Nesta immediately turned to Feyre.

“Tamlin was such a jerk this afternoon. I can’t believe you ever dated that man.”

“I know, I felt so bad,” Feyre answered.

“And he’s not even entitled to be angry at you.”

“Yeah, we broke up four months ago, he should have moved on by now.”

Nesta stopped for a second. “Oh, yes of course. But that’s actually not what I was referring to.”

“What?”

“Didn’t Lucien tell you? Tamlin came with a date.”

“What?! And he dares yell at me for not coming alone?! What was he expecting? That I’d spend the weekend miserable and alone while he got to flaunt some bimbo around?”

Nesta snorted. “I know. He’s ridiculous. He couldn’t get over the fact that you dumped his ass so he probably wanted to make you jealous or something, I don’t know. Anyway, is your room any good? Mine is on the other side of the hotel and I don’t have a view of the ocean.”

Rhys then listened to his date and her sister talk extensively about what they thought of the hotel, and weighed in a few times on their conversation. Feyre leaned closer to him during the time they spent talking before dinner, and when Elain, Lucien and the best men joined them at the table, she had a hand resting gently on his knee, and his arm was looped around the back of her chair. It all seemed so easy, being close to her and touching her, he barely registered the new people at the table. Lucien sat beside his future wife, his cousin beside him, and Tamlin sat down next to them, leaving an empty seat beside Rhysand.

Feyre’s ex was not what he had expected. With long blond hair tied up in a high ponytail, very pale skin and clear green eyes, he would have almost looked like a prince from a fairy tale. But from what Rhys had seen of him when he’d come in, he was less of a prince charming and more of an angry man who thought he was entitled to his ex’s affection.

The meal started, and they made it all through the food without anyone raising their voice, even though he could sense Feyre tense every time Tamlin opened his mouth. If all the weekend went by that smoothly, it would be much easier than what he’d imagined.

This thought was washed away when Tamlin got up to go to the lobby, and reentered the room five minutes later with a beautiful blonde woman by his side. Feyre’s fork fell down from her hand as she took in the woman, and she said in a half voice “you have to be fucking kidding me.” Then she grabbed Lucien over the table, interrupting his conversation with Elain. “Did you know he was bringing her?”

His smile fell and he looked worried. “No, Feyre I swear, I only learned of it this morning. I knew he was bringing someone but I had no idea it would be -”

“Lucien,” the woman interrupted him, laying a possessive hand on his shoulder to make him turn around. Rhys saw Tamlin avoiding Feyre’s stare, as well as Lucien’s cringe at the  woman - Ianthe’s - touch. He couldn’t help but smile at how smooth but firm Elain acted in that moment. She clearly didn’t want Ianthe anywhere close to Lucien, but she remained polite enough to not make a scene. Both women started talking, still standing, and beside him, Feyre had grabbed her fork again. She was clenching it so hard that Rhys considered the possibility of her breaking it. He nudged her on the shoulder and whispered to her “are you alright? Do you want to leave?”

She gave him a very strained smile and shook her head before answering in a similar low voice. “No, it’s fine, thank you. I’ll be fine, there’s only the cake left before the meal is over.”

But she didn’t speak another word during the rest of the dinner, and Rhysand was forced to listen to all the things Ianthe was talking about, and after ten minutes, he couldn’t wait for the cake to be served and eaten.

It became polite to leave only after forty minutes of dessert, when some people from the other tables came up to Elain and Lucien to bid them good night. Rhys let another ten minutes go by, and then he gently slipped a hand in the small of Feyre’s back and made her get up.

“Elain, Lucien, is it okay with you if we leave you now?”

“Oh, absolutely Rhysand! It’s getting late, we should all go to bed if we want to enjoy ourselves all day tomorrow!”

“Oh yes,” Ianthe said, “I can’t wait to see what you have planned for us, Elain!” And then, she very ostensibly slipped a hand very high on Tamlin’s thigh and said with a direct look in Feyre’s direction: “We should also go to bed, shouldn’t we, Tam?”

Feyre didn’t react, she simply bent down to kiss Elain and Lucien, and then she was walking to the lobby, up the stairs and into their bedroom. She locked herself in the bathroom before he even entered the bedroom, and he started changing out of his suit to wear a loose pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. She hadn’t come out after twenty minutes, so he strolled to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

“Feyre, are you okay?”

She took a minute to answer. “I am.”

“Do you… need anything?”

“No.” and after a pause. “Thank you.”

“Okay. I was just wondering because -”

She opened the door to the bathroom and he found her wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, her makeup gone and her hair loose on her shoulders. He wondered for a second how she could be even more beautiful now than she’d been before, but then he took in her angry look.

“Don’t you get that if I lock myself in a room, maybe it means I don’t want you to bother me?”

“I’m sorry, I was just worried and -”

“There’s no need to be worried,” she answered in a harsh voice, pushing him out of the way to go to the wardrobe and put her dress on a hanger. She then sat cross legged on the large bed and proceeded to ignore him. He mumbled a “sorry” and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. She hadn’t moved when he came out later, and he went to sit beside her.

“You know, Feyre, it’s understandable that you feel bad after tonight. I mean, if you feel jealous about -”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oh. I just thought, maybe if you’re not completely over your ex yet, it would -”

“I am completely over him,” she interrupted him again, and this time she turned to him. “Don’t act like you know me, Rhys. You have no idea how I feel, so stop trying to analyze me and just leave me alone, okay?”

He stared at her for a second before backing down. “Okay,” he said, leaving the bed and opening the double glass doors to the small terrace. He sat down on one of the chairs and looked at the ocean in front of him. He understood why she was angry. To some extent, at least. He too had some exes with whom he had a bad history, and he could obviously understand why she wasn’t willing to talk to him about it. Of course she considered him a stranger. They had talked a lot over the last week, and he’d somehow built up the illusion of knowing her, understanding her. But she obviously didn’t feel the same, and he understood that.

He heard the door move behind him and he felt the light touch of a hand on his shoulder. And then she talked, a mere whisper. “I’m sorry, Rhys.”

He turned towards her and smiled. “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

She sit beside him. “Yes, I do. You were great today, and tonight… Getting us out of there early, you were wonderful. I have no right to lash out at you, it’s not you I’m angry at.”

They fell silent for a long time after that, because Rhys could feel she wasn’t done talking. She snuggled into the chair and continued: “I’m not jealous about Tamlin bringing someone to the wedding. We’ve been apart for months and I don’t care about him that way anymore. It’s just… It’s the woman he brought with him that makes me feel so bad.”

“Ianthe? She seems like a piece of work, huh?”

She laughed only a little. “Yes, she really is. But it’s not because of her awful personality that I’m angry.” She paused, let out a long sigh, and talked, stumbling over her words a few times.

“A little over four months ago, I was out of town for a business trip. I went to the other side of the country with some colleagues, and was away for a few days. When I came back, Tamlin was much nicer than he normally is. He bought me gifts, he was much less angry than usual, and we had a great couple of weeks together.” Oh, he knew where this was going. “Then I had to use his computer for work one night, and I opened his emails to log into mine. That’s when I saw the conversation. Messages they’d sent to each other about the weekend I was away, about what had happened between them. Apparently, she came over to talk to him about something from work and… They ended up spending the night together. And then the next day, and the next night. I confronted him that night, and he didn't deny it. He said it was a one time thing, a stupid mistake, he said it would never happen again.” Bullshit. “I left him the next day.” She turned to him, and he saw her eyes were bright with tears, so he leaned over and offered his hand. She gave him a weak smile and took it. “So you see, the reason why I'm so angry is not jealousy. It's just… I can't believe he brought her this weekend. I mean, I'm with you, but I didn't ask you here to taunt him. I just let myself get carried away when I told Lucien about you. I shouldn't have told him I had a boyfriend. But I just didn't want to spend the weekend alone with him there. He brought the woman he cheated with. And he thought I'd be alone, too.”

He could feel the hurt in her voice, and he wanted to do nothing else than take her in his arms and comfort her. But he settled for something less demonstrative.

“No offense, but he seems like an asshole.”

“I wouldn't have agreed a few months back but now… you're right.”

They fell silent, fingers intertwined, the only sound around them the waves rolling on the beach. After a few minutes, a shiver went through Feyre, and Rhys let go of her hand, took off his hoodie and handed it to her. She murmured a ‘thanks’ and put it on. Then she looked at his bare chest.

“You were right earlier.”

“What?”

“I wasn't looking at your tattoos.”

He let out a cry of triumph. “Ah! I knew it, I am irresistible.”

She snorted. “You're insufferable is what you are. But really though, your tattoos are beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

“Do they have a special meaning?”

“They do. I'm half Illyrian, these are tattoos from my mother's family.”

“Oh, I had never seen tattoos like these before.”

“Each one is unique, it tells the story of your family, your story, and your future.”

“Like a prediction?”

“Not exactly, more like guidelines of sorts.”

“What do your guidelines say?”

He smirked at her. “They say that I’ll fake being a boyfriend for a beautiful lady with a mean smile.”

She punched his arm slightly. “Oh shut up!!”

But she was blushing.


	7. Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get fluffy... *raises suggestive eybrow*  
> Thanks for all your comments and kudos!!!

“Should we head in?” Rhysand asked her after maybe an hour on the balcony.

It was starting to get really late, and if he was being honest, not wearing a shirt or a sweater left him shivering slightly.

“Sure,” Feyre answered beside him, and she unfolded her legs from under herself to get up. He followed her inside and let himself enjoy the view of her bare legs as she got closer to the bed, and looked at her taking off his hoodie, her slender body appearing under it.

“Now who’s the one staring?” Her voice caught him off guard and he looked up to see her face turned halfway towards him, a triumphant smile on her lips.

“Well, it’s not my fault if you’re so pleasant to look at.”

She laughed, and turned on the warm lights from the night stand before turning off the ceiling bright light. And suddenly, it felt intimate again. Suddenly, they were going to share a bed, sleeping close together, and he could just imagine laying her down on the blankets, and sharing a kiss like the one they’d had before, but a more private one, a real one. But he stopped his thoughts and came back to the present. To a present where it would probably be very awkward to sleep in the same bed with someone he barely knew. Even though it didn’t feel like he barely knew her.

Feyre seemed to have had the same awkward realization, because she crossed her arms on her chest and didn’t move any closer to the bed.

"So… how do you want to go about it? Do you have a favorite side or something?" He asked in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

It didn't work. She didn't look at him and only mumbled a low "no."

So Rhys took the lead. He climbed onto the bed, slid under the covers, and turned to look at her. "Do you want to leave the lights on?"

She shrugged. He needed to help her. So he started getting up. "I can sleep on the sofa if you're too uncomfortable for this, that's no problem."

"Oh, no," she finally answered, uncrossing her arms. "I'm just being ridiculous, of course we can share."

And a few seconds later, they were both laying down on their backs, staring at the ceiling, unable to articulate a single word. Finally, Rhys gathered the courage to talk.

"Did you enjoy today?" What a dumbass question, he thought immediately.

But at least, it got her to talk.

"I did, for the most part," she answered, and she turned her head to look at him. "Mostly because you were here, honestly."

In return, he smiled and turned on his side to face her. She didn't look away. "And it wasn’t too hard, seeing him again?"

She took a minute before answering, and when she did, she stumbled on her words a few time. "It wasn't so much the fact that I saw him per se. But… well, when we were dating, we used to hang out with Lucien and Elain a lot, with Tam being Lucien's best friend and all. And I have to admit, ever since I broke up with him, I kind of avoided them too. So tonight, being at a table with all of them… it felt almost nostalgic, and I didn't want it to. Not with what he did to me. And especially not with Ianthe here. So, yeah. It's not seeing him, it's the whole situation. I love Elain, and Lucien and I used to be very close friends, but it feels like I fell back into a life that's not mine anymore, and it's hard."

While she was talking, she had turned completely on her side to face him, and she looked so vulnerable in the warm light of the night stand, Rhys wanted to take her in his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Feyre."

She gave him a smile. They fell silent for some time, and just when he was about to suggest turning the lights off, she spoke again. "I thought I was over him, over what he did to me. But when I saw him, and then when I saw he'd brought her, I just…" she trailed off. "I didn't think it was possible to get angry so quickly, but I did. It felt awful, but I just couldn't control myself. And I know it's ridiculous."

He extended a hand to gently grab hers, and she looked up at him. He wanted to tell her she wasn't acting crazy, but he knew she needed more. She needed proof that her reaction was normal.

"My first girlfriend cheated on me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We dated for a few months in senior year of high school. She was very nice and very pretty, and my seventeen years old self was completely head over heels in love with her. And then after a few months I found out she had started sleeping with another guy on the side because I’d told her I wasn’t ready to have sex yet."

"That’s awful, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it. But that's not what I wanted to tell you."

"Oh?"

"I bumped into her at a party last year, and we talked for maybe ten minutes. And it's been more nearly ten years since high school, but it still felt awful to see her and think back about what she'd done to me. You're not ridiculous, Feyre. He hurt you bad, and you can't be expected to be over it easily. You're entitled to all the hate you want to give him, nobody's going to judge you. Not me, anyway."

She considered for a minute before smiling at him and letting out a small "thanks."

"Any time," he answered, and continued, "do you want to turn the lights off, now?"

"Yes please."

He turned his back to her and turned off the lamp.

He was starting to fall asleep when he felt an arm loop around his waist, and a slim, warm body press against his back.

"Is this okay?" She asked him in a low, almost shy voice.

He let his arm lay on top of her own and answered "of  course."

They let the quiet of the night envelop them and, snuggled against one another, slowly drifted off to sleep.


	8. Storm

“I can't believe it's raining.”

Elain’s disappointment was justified. Lucien and her had scheduled a whole day of activities for their guests.  _ Outdoor _ activities. And during the night, an enormous storm had risen all around them, rendering impossible any of the things they'd organized. So now, all fifty early guests were confined to the reception room, forced to take their breakfast inside instead of by the pool, as planned.

Again wearing Rhysand’s hoodie from the night before, Feyre gave her sister a sad smile over her mug of coffee. For all that the day seemed lost, she couldn’t seem to see her morale go down this morning. She’d fallen asleep holding him, the scent of citrus that emanated from his body mixing deliciously with the fragrance coming from the ocean and had woken up with one of his arms draped around her waist, and his head buried in her hair. Now, they were sitting side by side across the table from the future married couple, and she could feel his knee brush against hers when he moved. It made her chest fluster every time.

“Did you have a backup plan in case it rained?” Feyre asked, seeing that her sister was waiting for an answer.

“Not really, no… I mean, it’s the middle of summer. I have to take care of some urgent matters regarding the wedding, but not much for everybody else to do.”

“We could help you with your things if you want, Elain,” Rhys said from beside her, and her sister grinned at him.

“Thank you so much, you're really sweet! Actually, it's more bridesmaids stuff I have to go over with Nesta and Feyre, but maybe Lucien will need your help with something?” she said with a nudge to him. Before he could answer, Tamlin and Ianthe entered the room. Immediately, as if out of instinct, Rhys leaned back and laid his arm on the back of her chair, his hand resting on her shoulder. Tamlin tensed at the gesture, and as they sat down at the table, Feyre imagined what Rhys and her looked like to him. The day before, they had been dressed with more formal clothes, and even with the kiss they'd shared, the setting was still very different. This morning was much more intimate. Her hair undone, without makeup on and wearing what was clearly his clothes, they probably looked much more like a couple than before. Feyre found that she liked that idea, somehow. She rested her hand on Rhysand’s leg and asked him if he wanted more coffee. He nodded and she leaned on the table to grab the pot of coffee and fill in his mug. He thanked her with a peck on the cheek, and she didn’t fake the blush that creeped onto her face.

All the while, Tamlin was watching them, apparently oblivious to Ianthe’s attempts to get his attention. But Feyre didn't really care. She kept talking to Elain with her hand on his leg, tracing lazy circles on his thigh without realizing what she was doing.

 

***

 

Rhys thought back about his coffee with Feyre on Monday. He'd thought it was the most awkward situation ever. He'd been wrong.  _ This _ was the most awkward situation he'd ever found himself in. Leaving breakfast for Lucien’s suite to play a game of cards and drink with his close friends and family had been fine at first, but now he found himself listening to one of Lucien’s brother, Eris, a despicable man to say the least, talking loudly about the woman he brought with him in all but respectful terms. And then he called out to Tamlin.

“How about you, Tam? Brought your girl, did you? The foxy one from the Christmas party?”

Tamlin shifted in his seat and muttered a “no” under his breath, and Eris laughed.

“Oh yeah, I heard all about some blond babe business at a work party or something,” he said with a nudge to Lucien, who seemed extremely uncomfortable. “Good riddance, that one was always a bit stiff. You didn't come alone though, did you?”

“No,” Tamlin answered, “I didn't.”

“Good man, moving on from her. Hey, a man has needs, if she wasn't ready to accept that, you did good dumping her.”

“Actually he's the one who got dumped,” Rhys interrupted, with a smirk to Tamlin, hoping his anger wasn't showing. “Yeah, Feyre found out about him cheating and she left him. But not before he begged and pleaded, if I recall the details correctly.”

Tamlin clenched his jaws, but Rhys kept smiling at him, and Eris turned to him:

“And how do you know so many things about her?”

“I'm her boyfriend.”

He laughed. “She came with a boyfriend?! Oh that must be driving you crazy, Tam!” Tamlin mumbled under his breath, and Eris barked a laugh. “It does! Hey but I get that, she's a hot piece of ass, and -”

“Don't talk about her that way,” Rhys interrupted.

“Oh come on, man, don't be so uptight. I'm just stating a fact.”

“By talking about her like she’s an object?”

Eris rolled his eyes and went back to sipping his drink and talking to Lucien about work. But Tamlin wasn't done. He leaned closer to Rhys and said:

“You don't know her very well if you think she would like some guy defending her as if she was just a prize to fight over.”

Rhys took a second to calm his nerves, and looked away from Eris and Lucien to stare directly into Tamlin’s eyes.

“I don’t recall being the one treating her like a ‘prize’, that was more you and that jerk Eris.”

Tamlin looked taken aback, but he answered: “I didn’t disrespect her.”

“Oh, because bringing the woman you cheated with is showing respect?!” Rhys couldn’t help but answering in a louder voice, and all the men around the table looked at them. “You don’t care about respecting her, you just want to hurt her. And I won’t let you.”

“Oh yeah? Well…” Tamlin started, but he trailed off, and seemed to be looking for a witty reply for a long time, before he scoffed and turned back to the table.

Rhys snorted and couldn’t help but let out a small “great repartee” before continuing the game too.

 

***

 

After Rhys joined Lucien and his close friends to enjoy some card games, Feyre stayed in the restaurant to order some food and drinks, with the firm intention of spending the morning in Elain's room watching romantic comedies and drinking margaritas. Feyre ordered for them, and when she turned back to her sisters, she realized they weren't alone anymore. Clare and Sara, some of Elain's closest friends, had joined them at the table. She smiled at them and ordered more food to the bridal suite.

When she came back to their table however, she realized there was another person with them. Ianthe had joined them, and was talking without pause to her audience, oblivious to the uncomfortable silence around her. She stopped when she spotted Feyre, and, without missing a beat, gave her a large smile.

“Oh Honey, great of you to join us! Do you want something to drink?”

Feyre didn't answer her, instead she turned to Elain and said they could go back to the suite, that the food and drinks would be brought to them in a little while. They all got up to go upstairs but to her dismay, so did Ianthe.

Elain caught up with her in the stairs and talked in a quiet voice “Fey, I didn't want her to join but… well she sat down on her own and then I didn't know how to say no?”

“How about ‘we don't hang out with cheating floozies’?” And seeing the shocked look on her sister's face she continued “I'm sorry, I know it's not your fault, don't worry. We'll watch a movie and drink, I'll just ignore her, don't worry about me.”

“I'm truly sorry Feyre, I…”

“Elain it's your wedding. You have other things to think about than my love life. Don't worry.”

They all settled in the room, and started a movie once their food and drinks were here. As the movie unfolded in front of them, Feyre restrained herself from looking at Ianthe. Annoying, self-absorbed, disdainful Ianthe. Beautiful Ianthe. So gorgeous and charming that Feyre had always had a tendency to like her despite her personality, back when she'd only been Tamlin's colleague, one she saw at cocktail parties once in a while. She'd never been wary of Ianthe, confident in the strength of her relationship with Tamlin, absolutely certain that nothing could ever have come between them.

What a fool she'd been.

It was almost laughable, how she'd trusted him with everything, despite the fact that he'd always treated her so badly. He was always angry at her, never satisfied with all the efforts she was doing for their relationship. Her actions were never enough, and she knew that if she'd stayed with him longer, it would never have been enough. Staring blankly at the screen in front of them, Feyre thought back of all the pleading that had followed her discovery. There had been crying, screaming, throwing objects around and calling her selfish, and a second later, dropping on his knees and promising it would never happen again. She had almost agreed to give them another chance. Almost. She'd left him anyway, and she didn't regret it.

But still, bringing Ianthe this weekend was a dick move. He hadn't known she was bringing someone, he hadn't known about Rhysand, and her supposed several weeks old relationship with him. To him, she was coming alone to this weekend, and he’d probably imagined her being miserable.

Had he invited Ianthe solely to spite her? To make her feel bad and to make her cry?

She felt anger build up inside of her. If he wanted to play, she was going to play. And she was going to win.


	9. Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished mapping out the entire story for this fic, so I figured you guys deserved to celebrate with me with a new chapter!

After three very silly romantic comedies and a whole lot of margaritas, Feyre and all of Elain’s friends came downstairs, laughing loudly and with the idea of getting down to the beach now that the storm had calmed down and there was only light rain outside.

They barged into the bar with the firm intention of getting a bottle of whiskey and some sandwiches before heading out, and found most of the wedding guests lounging in there, the place filled with people of all ages, children running around and old relatives playing card games. Lucien and the rest of the guys were also there, hanging out around the pool table, many beer bottles surrounding them. Elain immediately let out an excited shriek and jumped into her fiance’s arms, everybody laughing and awwing at the gesture. 

But Feyre’s smile faltered when she saw Tamlin looping an arm around Ianthe while looking at her intently, as if every action he took had the sole purpose of angering her. She looked away immediately and found herself locking eyes with Rhysand, smiling at her, a pool cue in his hand as he was preparing to play.

She returned his smile and moved towards him. Once at his side, she ran a hand on his back, feeling his muscles moving under her touch as he stopped his play and turned to her.

“Hey,” she said, pressing herself against him. She saw surprise flash in his eyes, but he didn’t let it show, and slipped a hand on her back.

“Hey Darling, how was your morning?” She could see he hadn’t lowered his voice, and was grateful that he immediately understood what she needed.

“Good, but I missed you…” she answered in a false sad voice, hoping her tone would hide the truth behind her words. Because she  _ had  _ missed him. It was crazy, wasn’t it? To think that she had met this man only a few days before, but she had spent a large portion of the morning thinking about him and wishing he was with her.

But he didn’t need to know that. She had already asked him to come to a wedding with him as her fake boyfriend, she couldn’t imagine what his reaction would be if he knew she missed him for real. He would probably think she was pathetic, still in love with her ex, and using him as a rebound to get over him. None of that was true - well, maybe she was a little pathetic… - but she would understand why he would think so.

But Rhys was a goddamn good actor, because when he answered, she almost felt as if his warm smile was real. “I missed you too, really. Do you want to hang out?”

She turned to her sister, and realized Elain was watching them with a smile. Beside her, Tamlin was staring at her with fury in his eyes, but she ignored him to focus on Elain.

“Would it be alright if I stayed here, El?”

“Oh, of course! Have your fun! Do you want to come down to the beach with us, guys?”

Everyone around them seemed to agree, but Tamlin grumbled something about not wanting to get wet. Feyre restrained a laugh as she saw Ianthe starting to freak out beside him.

“You’re not coming? Seriously??”

“No, I…”

“ - Just want to stay here with your ex because you’re jealous!”

Everyone around them scattered away quickly, but Feyre didn’t want to leave. Tamlin wanted to hurt her, and she wouldn’t back down now. She leaned against the pool table and held Rhys against her, locking her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. She wouldn’t leave, not when Tamlin was the one insisting on staying around.

Rhys whispered in her ear: “Don’t worry Feyre, I’m not going anywhere.”   
It felt almost flirty, but he was stroking her back slowly, reassuring, and she felt better under his touch, determination flooding through her body.

A few feet away from them, Tamlin and Ianthe were still arguing. “I just don’t feel like going out, okay? Leave me alone, Ianthe.”

Seeing the look of hurt on her face, Feyre felt almost sorry for Ianthe. And then she remembered the email she had read about their weekend together, full of excruciatingly graphic details, and she felt angry again. Ianthe stormed out of the room, and she saw Tamlin walk away from them to sit at the bar.

She let go of Rhysand and he backed out just a little bit, his hands still resting on her hips, but at a more appropriate distance. They stayed silent for a moment, before Feyre spoke in a whisper.

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome, Darling.”

“No but… really. Thank you. I know you probably weren’t expecting my to throw myself at you like that, I’m sorry. I just…” she trailed of, and she felt his hand gently grab her chin to make her look at him.

“There’s no need to apologize, trust me. I told you I would help you this weekend, and if helping you means spending half of my time with my arms around you, well I’m really not complaining,” he finished, his smile turning almost feral. She felt herself blushing, and giggled. Actually giggled.

Rhys looked over her shoulder for a half-second before saying: “He’s looking at us, and his face is priceless, I swear.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, he looks like he’s going to implode in the next second.”

She laughed out loud, and felt Rhys’ hand leave her chin to slid down to her ribs.

“Do you really want to drive him crazy?” He asked in a mischievous voice.

She thought for a very short time before answering: “Yes.”

“Then trust me.”

She felt his arms go down her sides until he reached her thighs, and suddenly he was lifting her in the air. She clung to him, but a second later, she found herself sitting on the edge of the pool table, Rhys standing between her legs, smirking at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, nothing too inappropriate, don’t worry. We’re still surrounded by your sister’s guests, after all.” He had answered with a grin, and now he was lowering his lips onto her cheek, leaving a trail of featherlight kisses against her skin, slowly making his way to her ear. Feeling the soft brush of his lips against her made Feyre instinctively move a hand up to the back of his neck, letting her fingers scrape his hair lightly. Her heart missed a beat as she heard a soft moan escape his lips, and she had to remind herself that they were still in a public place.

He seemed to remember too, because he moved back to look at her, a small smile on his face. “Maybe I should stop before he gets too angry.”

Lost in his deep blue eyes, she whispered “who?” before remembering her ex was staring at them. “Oh… yeah you’re… you’re right.” Even though she didn’t want him to stop. His hands on her hips felt right, and her neck felt cold now that he had moved away. But all of this was a game to him, and she couldn’t very well admit to him that she did like his kisses on her neck.

Rhysand looked behind her for a second before talking. “He looks furious, I wish you could see him!”

But she didn’t want to think about Tamlin right now, with Rhysands arms around her. “Do you mind if we go somewhere else?”

“Oh, sure.” He moved away from her, but once she had jumped off the pool table, he  offered her his hand. Smiling, she intertwined her fingers with his, and without a glance behind them, they left the bar and the flurry of guests.

 

***

  
  


“So, what did you do for your prom, then?”

Sitting cross-legged on their bed, Rhys couldn’t help his smile at the vision in front of him. Feyre was lounging on the bed, with her feet up against the wall, looking at him upside down. She’d just told him the story of how her prom date had ditched her in the middle of the evening to hang out with friends, only to come back hours later in the hopes of spending the night with her in a shabby motel.

“Well? Please don’t tell me you didn’t go because I will never believe you.”

“Why wouldn’t you believe me?”

She laughed, and he had to restrain his desire to touch those beautiful lips of hers. “No offence Rhys, but I have a hard time imagining you as the kind of guy to avoid school dances, somehow. I see you as the annoying football player everybody wanted to invite to prom, and probably got elected prom king or something.”

He laughed. “Let me tell you, you are completely wrong!”

“Oh?” She frowned, and if anything, it made her face even more gorgeous than before.

“I was never in the football team, I played baseball.”

She burst into laughter at that, and brought her feet down from the wall to roll onto her stomach and look at him, resting a hand on one of his knees. “I see, I was completely off, then. But seriously, what did you do? Were you a jerk to your date like my date was? I’m sure you weren’t.”

For a second, he got lost in the feeling of her hand on him, but she was waiting for an answer. “Actually, I didn’t really go with a date.”   
“Really?”

“Yeah. My cousin Mor, I think I told you about her?” she nodded. “She wanted to go with this girl she’d been seeing at the time, but her parents… They aren’t what you could call accepting. So, I invited the girl to prom to throw her parents off the trail, and when we got there, they got to spend the night together. So, I think you could say I ditched my date? But it was for a noble cause. They got married last year.”

She was looking up at him, her face resting in her hands, a soft smile on her lips. “So, you gave up going to prom with a date to help out your cousin? That’s very sweet.”

Despite his best efforts, he felt a blush spread on his cheeks. “Well, it was the right thing to do.” And because he was taken aback by her eyes that seemed to see all the way to his soul, he added in a sarcastic tone: “Plus, I had enough people fawning over me to get a good time even without an established date. The perks of being a star baseball player, I guess.”

“Modest, as always, I see.”

“Always.”

She laughed, and he felt a rush of joy spreading inside his body at the sound.

He was debating kissing her when a knock on the door interrupted him. Feyre got up and went to open, only to find Nesta waiting on the other side.

“Elain sent me to get you, she needs us both to go with her check on a few things.”

“Okay,” Feyre answered before turning back to him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I need to go. I’ll see you later?”

“Sure Darling.”

And with a last smile, he watched her get out of the room, still wearing his hoodie. She could keep it forever if she wanted to, and he wouldn’t mind.


	10. Bridesmaids

Feyre followed Nesta down the corridor until they reached Elain’s bridal suite. The remnants of their morning and lunch had been cleared out, and Elain was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a large pink notebook on her lap.

Feyre smiled at the sight of it. Nesta and her had spent an entire afternoon looking for the perfect notebook to offer Elain when she’d told them Lucien and her had gotten engaged. She had written everything wedding-related in it, and there wasn’t a moment over the last few months where she could have been seen without it. It was covered in scribbles and images cut from magazines, notes from meetings with their wedding planner, and a lot of photos.

Elain looked up from it and smiled at them.

“Hey. So, I was thinking we could go over tomorrow’s organization together? And then there are a few details I want to check with you two.”

They sat down around her and Feyre looked at the to-do list for that day, entitled “D -1!!!!!!!!” with maybe a thousand hearts drawn around it. The list was pretty long, and Feyre read out loud a few items:

“Check if seating chart is ready, review the decorations in the dining room, call mom and dad to confirm check-in time, call photographer,.... Elain, there are so many things and it’s already four in the afternoon! Why didn’t we start on that list this morning?”

“Oh relax,” her sister answered, “Most of it is going to take like five minutes, I’m even sure we’ll get time to chill before tonight’s party.”

Feyre had a hard time believing how relaxed her sister was about everything. Of course, she wouldn’t tell her, she didn’t want to have to handle a freak-out. But still, she didn’t think Elain’s calm attitude would last very long, and she set out to calling the photographer while her sisters were taking care of other tasks.

 

***

 

After maybe two hours of calling providers and confirming schedules, the three sisters had finished almost everything on Elain’s list, and they were heading down to the dining room to check on the decorations that were already set up.

The room was gorgeous, adorned with warm lights on the ceiling, every table surrounded by white wooden chairs, and candles of every size set everywhere on the tables.

“We’re still missing all the flowers, obviously,” Elain said, “we’re going to have centerpieces of carnations and ranunculuses, plus some wood decorations to liven them up. There will be two large flower arches over there, and on this table here, we’ll set out the cake once it’s time. What do you think?”

“It’ll look great, El,” Feyre confirmed, but her sister hadn’t really been asking for her advice. Already, she had gone off to check if the name tags matched her seating chart. Feyre took it upon herself to help her, and started counting the chairs, making sure they indeed had a hundred and four, divided evenly among the eighteen tables.

They corrected a few mistakes, and were done within a short half an hour. That’s when one of the waiters brought them glasses of sparkling wine, and they sat down at the nearest table, taking in the view around them. Feyre was about to ask about the menu when she saw Nesta and Elain exchange a look she didn’t understand.

Nesta turned to her and asked abruptly, in a manner only Nesta would talk. “So, Feyre, what’s up with you?”

“What?”

“How come we haven’t heard of Rhysand before yesterday?”

“I …” She found herself at a loss for words, unable to find a good answer to the unexpected question. She thought back about what Rhys had said to Elain in the car the day before and decided it was a good enough reason.  “I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t want to jinx it by talking to you guys about it.”

“That’s what you said in the car,” said Elain, “but now that I saw you two together, I have a hard time believing it.”

Oh God, they’d realized Rhysand and her were faking their entire relationship, hadn’t they? “What do you mean?”

“Well, I can understand not talking about it if it was a relationship you didn’t really care about but that’s not really the impression we got from seeing you two together.”

What?

But Nesta didn’t give her the time to form coherent thoughts. “Yes, usually when you’re this invested in a relationship, you talk about it, at least with Elain.”

“What… What makes you think I’m so invested in this?”   
“Oh please, don’t take us for fools, Feyre! You two are so absorbed into one another it’s almost sickening!”

“What Nesta means,” Elain cut in in a gentle voice, “is that we can see how much you care for him, so we were just curious.”

“You can?”

“Of course we can! So tell us, where is this going between you two?” Nesta asked bluntly.

Feyre took a sip of her wine to give herself some time to think. Was she really starting to like Rhysand? She’d only met him a week ago, and they hadn’t seen each other much during that time. Really, he was little more than a stranger to her. A kind, considerate stranger, who had spent the entire week making her laugh and blush over the phone, and who’d been marvelous since they’d gotten to the hotel. A gorgeous stranger she didn't mind looking at when he was shirtless, and who’d held her in his arms all night. A stranger she’d thought about kissing all day. Kissing, or maybe more than kissing.

She felt her cheeks starting to burn and swallowed more wine to help steady herself.

“I don’t really know where this is going, you guys. It’s very new, we haven’t exactly talked about it yet.”

“Oh,” Elain said, as if she was surprised. “It really doesn’t look like it. Not when he looks at you, anyway.”

“What do you mean? How does he look at me?”

Elain didn’t seem to know what to say, but Nesta answered for her. “He looks at you like he’s in love with you.”

Feyre almost choked on her wine. “He’s not in love with me!”

“How do you know?”

“Because…” because we met a week ago and we aren’t in a real relationship. But of course she couldn't say that. “Because you don’t fall in love in a month.”

“You can, if they’re the right person,” Elain answered with a large grin. Nesta snorted at how much of a hopeless romantic Elain was, Elain answered saying she was allowed to be romantic on the eve of her wedding, and the both of them started bickering, unaware of the turmoil happening in Feyre’s brain.

Of course, Rhys wasn’t in love with her, that much was not up to debate. But… Did he like her? More than just as a random girl he’d met at a club? She had to admit, she knew she was enjoying his company. A lot. She couldn’t say it was love, but… Maybe she was starting to fall for him a little bit.

More than a little bit.


	11. Party

Rhys had already taken a shower, and was scrolling through his phone when Feyre entered the room. She smiled at him and went to rummage through her luggage without a word. She took out a little black dress and what looked like some black underwear he forced himself to look away from.

While she went into the bathroom and turned on the water, he got out of his casual clothes and put on a pair of black jeans and a grey shirt. Tonight’s party wasn’t necessarily too formal, according to what Feyre had told him. Just a gathering of the guests to allow everybody to catch up with the soon-to-be-married couple. The actual wedding reception taking place on the Sunday night, Feyre had explained that most of Lucien’s guests wouldn’t be able to stay after the ceremony, and they would use the Saturday night to celebrate.

He was buttoning his shirt when Feyre came out of the bathroom, and he took a moment to look at her, the velvet black dress clinging onto her every curves, from her low-cut neckline to her knees. She had put on makeup, enough to enhance her grey eyes and the line of her mouth, and he found himself smiling.

"You're a sight for sore eyes."

She tucked a loose curl behind her ear and grinned at him.

"Why thank you, kind sir. You're not too shabby yourself."

He chuckled and offered her his arm.

 

***

 

_ "Saturday night is going to be very casual, just a pool party with a few guests and a buffet." _

Her sister's words resonated inside her head as Feyre took in the party around them.

Now that the storm had lifted, people were enjoying the evening light outside of the hotel. Children were running around in swimming suits, and there were groups of people chatting loudly around the buffet table and beside the pool.

It was casual alright. But there were more than a few guests. All of the people who'd already been arriving at the hotel were here, more than seventy people enjoying the evening together. Or maybe it had been what Elain imagined when she said "a few guests." After all, they had invited more than a hundred people to the reception, and maybe two hundred and fifty at the ceremony.

That was so many people. If she herself ever got married, she wanted it to be a small thing, maybe a few friends and members of the family for the ceremony, and a simple dinner afterwards. She couldn't imagine herself entertaining that many people on a day that was supposed to be for only her and her fiance. Maybe later they would have a big party, but not the day of the wedding. No, that day would be simple. She'd wear a nice gown, obviously, with maybe some touches of deep blue to enhance his eyes and -

She stopped herself from thinking any further. She couldn't let herself think the next words.

Creating her imaginary wedding had always been a game, some silly fun she had with herself once in a while. But the groom never had a face. It was always the vague idea of marriage that attracted her, not an actual person. And yet, right now, she had started to imagine a wedding without a blurry groom. For a split second, he'd had deep blue eyes, dark hair, and a brown skin she knew was covered in tattoos under the fabric.

She was crazy. There was no other word for it. She couldn’t walk around imagining her perfect wedding with a guy she barely knew! Her brain was just overridden by all the wedding fever around them, there were so many romantic feelings floating around them that she was just letting herself go with the flow.

And she really didn’t want to. She needed to stay focused, she needed to not forget that Rhysand and her were just faking. But just when she thought that, he came back from the bar with two glasses of wine, and handed one to her with a small kiss on the cheek.

Was it so wrong? Wanting to enjoy the company of this man who had been nothing but wonderful to her ever since their meeting? Why was she supposed to hold out on something that had the potential to be great? Why should she stop herself from holding his hand, or kissing him?

So she smiled at him and, thinking that maybe letting the romantic setting get to her wasn’t the worst idea, intertwined her fingers with his.

 

***

 

This party was great.

And it wasn’t the many wedding guests they had talked to, nor the delicious food and drinks or the ambiance set by the music.

It was her.

Her fingers still laced with his even when they were slowly approaching midnight, Feyre was laughing loudly with one of her great-aunts, a delightful old woman who had come from the other side of the country to be here. They had been talking with her for maybe twenty minutes, and Rhys couldn’t tear his eyes from Feyre. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, it was the way she radiated light around her, energy shining as bright as the Sun and engulfing everyone around her. He didn’t know how to describe it better, and he knew he could never tell her something like that. It was too big a risk of sounding cheesy and idiotic.

But she did. Everybody that came to talk to them tonight left with a smile larger than the one they’d arrived with, she seemed able to liven up any subject of conversation with a witty joke and a kind comment. God, he wanted to kiss her.

He’d known it for a while now, that their arrangement at faking intimacy was starting to feel real for him. But looking at her casually touching his arm when she talked to him felt too amazing to ignore any longer.

He would wait for her aunt to leave them, and then he’d talk to her. About how he was starting to like her more than he’d planned. About how he wanted to kiss her, and not just for show.

“Feyre!” he heard a woman’s voice come from behind them, and felt Feyre’s fingers clench his own. She apologized to her aunt and turned to the newcomers, a couple in their sixties who were marching towards them. The woman wrapped her in a tight hug, tearing their hands apart before releasing Feyre.

“Oh Dear, it’s great running into you here! We weren’t sure we would get to see you.”

Feyre’s voice was tense when she answered. “Well, it  _ is  _ my sister’s wedding, you know.”

“Oh no, I know, Dear, of course. What I meant was that we miss seeing you around our house, now that… well you know…” The woman awkwardly stumbled over her words, and the stern man beside her didn’t bother to comment.

“Now that I’m not dating your son anymore? You can say it, Dolores, ‘break-up’ is not a bad word.”

Oh. They were Tamlin’s parents. He could see it now, especially in the man's posture and appearance, the striking similarities between father and son. He hadn’t thought they were going to be at the wedding, but then again, Tamlin was supposed to be Lucien’s oldest friend, so it made sense that his parents would be here. Why they were coming to see Feyre like everything was fine between their son and her was beyond him, though.

Feyre seemed to think the same, because she said in a strained voice: “Anyway, we should really go -”

“Oh look,” Dolores interrupted her, “Tam is over there! Tamlin, baby, come here!”

They all turned to watch Tamlin’s surprised face turn into confusion, and finally anger, as he approached their group and glared at Rhysand. But his mother didn’t seem to notice, she just hugged her son, and nudged her husband to do the same. Rhysand was hoping it was over and they would just go away with Tamlin when Dolores asked out of the blue.

“So Feyre, who’s your friend? I don’t think we’ve met, are you from Elain’s side of the family?”

He was cut off guard by her question, but Feyre answered for him, gripping his hand tightly. “He’s my boyfriend.”

The silence that followed was almost hilarious. He could see Tamlin’s parents’ faces crumble, and he could feel the anger sipping out of Tamlin. In face of the general awkwardness, Rhysand decided to have a laugh out of it, at least for Feyre’s sake. So he extended his hand and shook theirs.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’m Rhysand.”

Tamlin’s father shook his hand as briefly as humanly possible, but his mother lingered, as if in shock. But Rhysand wouldn’t let the silence reign around them.

“Are you enjoying the party? Elain and Lucien really went all out, didn’t they?”

As usual, his charm was enough to almost diffuse the situation. Dolores smiled at him and started talking about the wonderful hors-d’oeuvres she had tried out. He felt Feyre’s hand relax in his own, and she moved closer to him. He had to restrain himself from looping an arm around her shoulder - he didn’t want to go too over the board.

Tamlin was silent beside his parents, letting his mother ramble for a minute. Then he finally talked, not letting her finish a sentence.

“Mom, maybe you would like to have something to drink? Let’s go.”

His mother slowly turned to him, clearly not happy about having been interrupted. “Yes, I would, thank you for offering. I’ll have a martini, please.”

Rhys almost snorted. Tamlin had clearly wanted to cut in on the conversation, and his mother was just sending him away. Oh, she was a fun one. Tamlin grumbled something and walked away, not without a last heinous look towards him. His father followed him without a second look in their direction, and Dolores turned back to them.

“I’m sorry, he can be so rude sometimes. Anyway, what was I saying?”

“You were talking about the menu for tomorrow,” Feyre answered in a sharp voice. “I’m sorry Dolores, we should probably go say hello to other guests.” They had already talked to everybody at the party, but he certainly wasn’t going to point that out and miss the opportunity to leave.

“Oh, Dear, don’t be uncomfortable please. Just because you and my son broke up doesn’t mean we have to be in bad terms.”

“Not in bad terms, no. But I’m sorry Dolores, I’m not really comfortable being around him, and that includes you.”

“Why would you be uncomfortable? I know you two had a couple of differences but that doesn’t mean you don’t love each other anymore.”

Was this woman seriously talking about Feyre still loving her ex in front of him? But before he could say anything, Feyre answered.

“A couple of differences? Oh I see, you don't know why we broke up, do you?”

“Feyre.” Tamlin’s voice sounded from behind them, coming back from the bar.

“No, she deserves to know why I dumped your ass, Tam,” and turning back to his parents, she said, “Tamlin cheated on me. He spent an entire weekend screwing his colleague, dear Ianthe you seem to find so nice, and then when I came back he acted like nothing was wrong. When I found out and dumped him, he actually cried and begged me to stay with him. You son is a worthless coward, Dolores, and I regret every minute that our relationship lasted. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said as she looped an arm around his, “my boyfriend and I have some place to be. Anywhere away from here, for instance.”

 

***

 

They stumbled inside the room together, and Rhys awkwardly closed the door behind them, Feyre’s hand still clenching his tightly. She was laughing, as she had been since she’d made him run away from her ex’s family, and she turned to him, put her other hand on his chest and said once again “did you see his face? Did you see him? He was so angry, that was perfect!!”

He took the hand that was over his chest in his, a feeble attempt at hiding the fact that his heart was beating much faster than it was supposed to. She kept laughing, so close to him, and as they moved inside the room, they fell on the bed together. Out of instinct at the sudden change in gravity, Rhys wrapped Feyre in his arms, and then there they were, him lying on the bed, her body halfway on top of him and halfway at his side, her face more beautiful than he'd ever seen it with her disheveled hair, her eyes shining with mischief and a large smile on her face. Seeing her this happy, he couldn't restrain a grin of his own, and he answered her.

“His face was priceless, Darling! You were totally right to -”

He was interrupted by her soft lips against his. As it had every time they had kissed this weekend, a whirlwind of feelings invaded his mind and rendered him unable to form a rational thought. She left his mouth just a moment later, and he realized he’d closed his eyes only when he opened them to find her smiling at him.

“We’re all alone, Feyre,” he whispered, “you don’t have to pretend.”

She said nothing for a while, her eyes moving to watch his lips before darting back to his eyes.

“I know,” she answered, and then she was kissing him again.


	12. Wine

As she started kissing him again, Feyre felt Rhysand's hands move against her, and then they were caressing her cheeks, her neck, traveling up and plunging into her hair. She let out a small moan when he started massaging her scalp, and she felt a smile grow on his lips. She didn't resist her instincts anymore, and she passed her tongue on his lips, a silent demand to deepen the kiss that was immediately answered. She moved to straddle him and her hands flattened on his chest, but the shift didn't disturb him from kissing her.

They broke apart after a moment, and Feyre felt his heart pounding beneath her palms, but she didn't open her eyes, and she didn't move away. Instead, she very slowly moved her hips to grind against him, and he groaned, his hands moving away from her hair only to slide down her back. She moved just slightly, and as she opened her eyes, found herself looking into his deep blue eyes. She didn’t look away as her hands started unbuttoning his shirt, brushing against his tattoos as she got lower and lower, until his shirt was completely open, and his hands left her back to get rid of the shirt completely. She couldn’t help her smile, and she captured his lips again, her hands roaming free over his muscles. She felt his fingers trail a path down her back, over her hips and on the outside of her thighs, until they reached the edge of her dress. She sighed against him, wanting to feel his hands on her skin. Rhys suddenly stopped kissing her, and took one hand to her back to steady her on his lap as he sat up on the bed, leaving her to drink in the sight of his body at will as he lifted her dress over her arms and head.

When she saw his eyes drift down and take her in with a small smile, she had a second of self-awareness during which she was glad to have chosen a black lace bra to wear, and she chuckled. He looked back up with a frown and she whispered “nothing” before kissing him again. She felt his hands struggle with the clasp of her bra, and then it was gone, joining her dress on the ground, and then his fingers where tracing soft lines under her breasts, and their tongue were interlaced in a heated kiss, their hips slowly rocking together as she lowered her hands to grab his belt and -

A knock on the door. They both went still in unison, waited for a few seconds without moving, and Feyre resumed kissing him. Another knock interrupted them, and he groaned.

“Whoever they are, they’ll go away,” she whispered against his lips, and she felt him smile.

But then, she heard a voice she couldn’t say ‘no’ to, not tonight.

“Feyre, are you awake?” Elain asked from the corridor. Feyre moved away from Rhys’ lap with an unrestrained sigh, and he laughed, collapsing on the bed behind her. She remained seated, catching her breath for a while, enjoying the light brush of Rhysand’s knuckles on the bare skin of her back. Then she got up, grabbed her dress from the floor to cover herself up and walked to the door.

Except she hadn’t grabbed the dress, she had Rhys’ shirt in her hand and she was in front of the door. So she slipped the shirt on, buttoned it quickly and opened the door to find Elain on the other side.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry, Feyre, am I waking you up?” Elain said, taking in her bare legs and disheveled hair. Feyre should have lied, but she could still feel the ghost of Rhysand’s lips against hers, and out of resentment for having been interrupted, she said:

“Not exactly, no.”

Elain’s eyes opened wide and she blushed. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.”

Feyre instantly felt bad for making her uncomfortable, and opened the door wider. “It’s fine. What is it? Are you feeling alright?”

“Not really, no… I’m kind of… freaking out.”

“About tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Feyre checked behind her and found Rhysand sitting on the bed, smiling at her, still shirtless - she was to blame for that - but otherwise presentable, so she waved Elain in. They all stood there for a minute, Elain twisting her fingers and watching the ground, while they both exchanged a look.

“I’m gonna leave you two alone for a while,” Rhys said as he got up, came by to give her a very chaste peck on the lips that still made her want to get him on the bed again, and went to the balcony. She didn’t realize she’d been staring at his muscled back until he sat down and she couldn’t see him anymore. She coughed slightly and turned back to Elain, who looked mortified.

“I’m so sorry, Feyre, I didn’t mean to bother you…”

“It’s fine. You’re more important tonight.” She led her to the bed and they sat down beside each other. “What’s going on? Why are you freaking out?”

“Well, it’s just…. there is so much pressure on me and I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you having doubts?”

“A little bit, maybe.”

Feyre looked at her sister, with her tensed shoulders and clenched jaw. “Elain, I’m sure it’s just you getting anxious, but if you really feel like you’re making a mistake, you can always postpone the wedding or …”

“What?” Elain interrupted, “oh no Feyre, I don’t have doubts about marrying Lucien!”

“Oh. Okay, good. Then… what is it?”

Her sister’s eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembled. “Well, what if we made the wrong choice about our photographer?”

“... What?”

“What if the photos are awful and we never have good quality pictures to remember the wedding?”

“Oh…”

“And we chose a band for the dinner, but what if it would have been better with a DJ? I mean, bands need to take breaks, and what if one of them is hurt and can’t play, you know like in that movie where the guy is hurt and can’t play?”

“Elain…”

“And what if the flowers get delivered to the billing address back home and not here tomorrow? We can’t get married without flowers! Can you imagine how ugly the photos would be without the flowers? Oh and with the photographer being bad, it’s just going to be so wrong, and what if…”

Feyre grabbed her sister by the shoulders. “Elain. You’re spiralling. Try to calm down, breathe.”

“I can’t calm down! This is my wedding, Fey! I won’t have a second one, and it needs to be perfect and I just…. I need to see Lucien.”

“Elain, what you need is some fresh air, okay?” She said as she guided her sister up and to the balcony. She made her sit down on the chair she’d been occupying the night before and crouched down beside her. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Rhys straighten up as they came out, and look at her sister with a frown of concern. He started to get up and Feyre turned to her sister. “Elain, can you stay alone for just a moment?”

Her sister nodded and Feyre followed Rhys inside. He sat on the bed and Feyre immediately wanted to kiss him again, so she stayed close to the balcony door as a self-restraining security.

“It’s okay, you can stay with her, I just wanted to give you guys space. What’s happening? Does she want to cancel?” Rhys asked.

Feyre couldn’t restrain a chuckle. “No, I thought so but… I think she’s just been under a lot of pressure  organizing all this and she’s just letting it out now.”

“Oh, alright. My cousin had kind of the same thing when she got married. What you need right now,” he said as he got up and walked to the mini-bar, “is booze. A lot of it.”

She took the bottle of white wine he was handing her, but still shook her head. “I can’t get my sister drunk the night before her wedding! She needs to be fresh and rested in the morning.”

“Trust me, Feyre, you’d rather have her drinking a bit and being asleep in an hour or two, rather than sober and getting twenty minutes of rest before the ceremony.”

She considered for a moment before grabbing the corkscrew and taking his other hand in hers. “Alright, but you’re coming with me.”

 

***

“ - and then, just when we thought it was over, we realized our mother was standing behind us!”

Feyre and Elain both started laughing at the end of the story about how Cassian had broken all of their parents’ wedding china when they were eleven, and Rhysand grabbed the bottle from Feyre’s hand to gulp down some wine. The three of them were still on their balcony, except that Feyre had given him his shirt back and was now wearing a flowery summer dress. She was sitting on his lap, an arm draped behind his head, and God, was she gorgeous.

But it was more than that.

She was a star. She illuminated everything around her, glowing unknowingly with her smile and her laughter and the way she spoke to people. He had seen her do it during the evening, and now she was doing it again, with her sister. Elain had arrived a half-hour earlier, stressed out and on edge. Now she was laughing and relaxed, having forgotten whatever it was that had her anxious. And it wasn’t his stupid stories, or the wine. It was Feyre.

Seeing her snuggled against him so naturally had him once again wonder how it was possible that they’d only met a week before. Because it wasn’t just physical attraction - although, he couldn’t deny how much he wanted to get her back in bed. They connected on every level, and he felt the need to tell her everything about him, and to know all there was to know about her. He wanted to learn how she took her coffee in the morning, and he wanted to watch her when she was tired after a long day or happy about silly little things.

“So,” Elain suddenly said, interrupting his thoughts, “are we going to get out of here or what?”

“What do you mean?” Feyre asked.

“I want to go swimming!”

“We’re not going down to the beach at this hour, El.”

Her sister looked at her with a mischievous smile. “We have a pool.” And without waiting for an answer, she got up, grabbed the bottle of wine from his hands and went towards the door. Feyre looked down at him in desperation, but he only said:

“I guess we’re going swimming, Darling.”


	13. Pool

The hotel was silent at one in the morning, so they snuck quietly down the stairs and passed the front desk, under the watch of an amused receptionist, before reaching the pool, lit by built-in lights and the reflection of the moon.

Elain didn’t wait for them before she took off her dress and plunged into the water with a big splash. Rhys laughed at the sight of her head emerging from the water, but his breath was cut short as Feyre turned to him and captured his lips in hers. He let his hands rest on her hips and pulled her to him almost out of reflex, and they kissed slowly for a few seconds. She was smiling softly at him when they broke apart, and he felt a rush of feelings invade his body at the sight.

“Hey, are you coming or what?” Elain yelled from the pool, and the both startled away from each other. “The water’s amazing!”

“I’m not wearing a swimsuit,” Feyre argued, and her sister laughed.

“So just keep your dress on!”

Feyre sighed, and let go of him to walk towards the water. Rhys took a minute to look at her, the backless summer dress revealing her smooth skin and the intricate tattoo on her back. She didn’t enter the water like her sister, but she sat down on the edge of the pool and slid her feet in the water before gesturing for him to join her. He took off his shoes and socks, rolled up his pants, and sat beside her. Immediately, Feyre rested her head on his shoulder.

They stayed that way for a long minute, Elain singing off tune in the water, Feyre laughing against his shoulder, the freshness of the water enveloping his feet. Finally, Elain disappeared again, and before they could react, Feyre yelped as her sister jumped out just in front of her and gripped her arm to drag her in the water.

Rhys didn’t restrain his laugh at seeing Feyre emerge from the water with an offended look at her sister.

“El! Why did you do that? I didn’t want to get in!”

“I know, that’s why I made you!” And at the sight of her sister’s frown, she laughed again. “Oh come one, Feyre. This is fun!” And she splashed her sister in emphasis. This started a splashing war that had Rhys as the referee, until Elain looked behind him and squealed.

“Lucien!”

He turned to look back at the hotel, and indeed, Lucien was standing at the entrance, looking at his fiancee with a soft smile. Elain got out of the water and, without drying herself, she ran to him and jumped in his arms.

He watched them hug each other until he felt slender arms rest on his knees, and looked back at the pool to find Feyre staring up at him, her head resting on her arms, her wet hair pooling around her in the water. She was smiling lazily, and he felt the urge to kiss her again. Instead, he smiled back and talked.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she answered immediately, but there was mischief in her lovely voice. And indeed, a second later she pushed herself up and got out of the water, her dress soaking wet and clinging onto her body. He let his eyes roam over her curves for a moment before looking back into her eyes and find her only a few inches from his face.

“You’re not coming in the water?” She whisper against him, and he shivered. “I’m getting pretty lonely now that Elain got out.”

“It’s been maybe ten seconds since she’s out.” Indeed, he could still hear Elain’s voice behind them, talking very fast to her soon-to-be husband. Feyre just shrugged.

“I bore easily.” And glancing at her sister, probably to make sure she wouldn’t hear, she bend down to whisper in his ear. “Especially when I know what we would be doing right now if we were alone.” And she planted a soft kiss on the shell of his ear just in case she hadn’t been clear enough. Then she moved back and grinned at him. “So, are you gonna swim with me?”

 

***

 

Feyre didn’t regret coming down to the pool. Sure, Elain and Lucien were now wrapped in a tight hug even though they weren’t supposed to see each other until the wedding, but at least Elain seemed to have finally forgotten her anxieties about the next day. And maybe she would get a few hours of sleep before her wedding.

And of course there was the matter of the man currently holding her in his arms. Rhys had taken off his shirt and pants, gotten in the pool and they’d swimmed for a while. But now he was holding her against him, both their bodies intertwined in the water, and his mouth was leaving a trail of kisses on her neck, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from letting out a moan.

“Rhys,” she started, and he hummed against her skin, almost making her lose her train of thoughts. “Rhys, we’re not alone.”

“I think your sister is a bit busy right now,” he spoke against her throat, and she shivered at the sensation. She let out a small laugh, because she could indeed see her sister and Lucien a few feet away, too absorbed into each other to look at them. She smiled and slid her hands in Rhys’ hair, making him groan. She lifted herself from the ground of the pool and wrapped her legs around his waist, laughing when she felt his hands travel down from her back to come rest on her hips.

She was about to turn her head and kiss him when a loud splash interrupted her. They looked to where the sound had come from, and found Elain swimming again, directly towards them this time.

“Hey, stop being gross, you two!” She said in a laugh, and Feyre felt heat rise to her cheeks. But Elain was clearly joking, and she swam away again. while Lucien sat down at the edge of the pool. But Rhys had moved away from her skin, and even though he was still holding her, it was now from a much more appropriate distance.

Feyre took a moment to look at him again, still amazed at the color of his eyes, at the way there seemed to have sparkles in them when he smiled. Even more amazed at the way he looked at her.

“Maybe we should get your sister back to her room now that she’s better,” he said to her in a low voice.

“Are you saying you’re not enjoying my sister’s company?” She answered, giving him a fake offended look, and he chuckled.

“Well, to be completely honest, I wouldn’t mind being alone with you again,” and with that, he let his fingers grip her hips a little tighter, and she drew in a sharp breath.

“In that case…” she whispered, before turning to her sister and talking in a louder voice. “Elain, you should really go to bed if you want to have enough rest for tomorrow.”

Her sister groaned, but Feyre untangled herself from Rhysand’s embrace and, somehow reluctantly, swam away from him to grab her sister’s hand.

“Do you want to look like a zombie on your wedding pictures? Because it is what’s going to happen if you don’t get enough sleep, you know.” Elain pouted, but nodded and followed her out of the water. She watched her sister put on her dress, and saw from the corner of her eye that Rhys had gotten out and was dressing up, too. Then Elain turned to them and said in a determined voice.

“Rhys, why don’t you get me back to my room?”

“M - Me?” He asked with a frown, and Elain nodded.

“Yes! It’ll be fun! And that way, I can give you the Talk.”

“What talk?”

“The Talk about treating my baby sister well,” she answered with a smirk, and Feyre snorted.

“Like you ever did that with any of my other boyfriends, El. I’ll take you back.”

“No, I want Rhys to come with me! Come on, it’ll be fun! Lucien, baby, I’m not looking at you again, don’t want to bring us bad luck!” And without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Rhys’ hand and pulled him away. Feyre laughed at the sight of his helpless look towards her, watching them walk away as Elain’s voice resonated loudly. And then they were gone, and she was alone with Lucien.

She didn’t want to talk to him right now, she just wanted to go back to her room and enjoy herself. She was about to walk inside when she heard his voice from behind her.

“Rhysand seems nice.”

And it sounded like a shy, unsure invitation. So she turned back towards the pool to find him looking up at her with a small smile. She knew him well enough to know what he was expecting, so she sat down beside him, let her feet plunge in the water, and answered.

“He really is.”

They stayed silent for a minute, the only noise the slight splashes of water around her ankles, but she waited. She knew he had something in mind. Finally, he talked.

“Feyre, I’m sorry.” She didn’t answer. She needed more. And he seemed to understand. “I’m sorry that I let Tamlin bring her this weekend. I didn’t know until a few days ago and…” he trailed off.

She answered in a low voice:

“I’m not mad about that, Lucien.”

“Really?”

“Well… Not mad at you, anyway,” she finished with a smile, and he chuckled.

“I miss you, Fey. I miss us hanging out together like we used to.”

Feyre looked at him then, taking in his sad smile. “I don’t.” And because his smile faltered, she felt the need to clarify. “I don’t let myself miss you. Because if I miss you, I’m gonna want to start seeing you again, and…” She paused, not knowing how to continue. “Lucien, when I see you, I can’t help but think back about what happened.” She saw he was about to talk, but raised a hand to stop him. “You knew. You knew how he talked to me, and how mean he was to me. You knew I was hurting, but you didn’t try to help me. You knew when he slept with her, but you didn’t say anything.”

“I was trying to protect you. I thought knowing would hurt you.”

“Learning about it and knowing that the man I considered my best friend had known, that hurt more, Lucien. I thought I could trust you.”

“I’m sorry.” And he looked as if he meant it. For the first time in months, he looked as if he realized how much he had hurt her. And at the sight, Feyre felt a weight lift from her shoulders, a weight she hadn’t known was here. So she took his hand in hers and smiled.

“Lucien, I’m not mad at you anymore. And I’m glad that I could be with you and Elain this weekend. No matter what.”

His smile turned into a grin, and he squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Silence enveloped them again, but it was different this time. It wasn’t heavy with unspoken words anymore.

After a while, Feyre let go of her friend’s hand and bumped him in the shoulder.

“Okay, mister, you need to go to bed, now. Elain will never forgive me if you look tired tomorrow.”

He laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. Plus, I’m sure  _ you’re  _ eager to go back to your room. Somebody must be waiting for you.” And he was smirking at her, so she punched his shoulder harder.

“Oh, shut up!”

They went back inside the hotel together quietly. They could never go back to the way their friendship was before his betrayal, but as she reached her bedroom, Feyre thought that maybe, they could build a new friendship, different. Healthy.


End file.
